MayeGirl

“You can never be like God,” was what my father liked to say. He’d smirk and wink as if in jest but I knew better than to play. He’d tell me that by definition men are fallen dirty creatures. He’d never tell me that our words were what brought our God so nearer. “God has took your words from you, He knew that’d work out best. With words men tend to wreak abuse of His plan for less and less.” I’d scratch my head when he’d say those very heartfelt words. I knew my dad was trying hard to keep me from more hurt. “Your words are how you’re like God,” he told me so sinc

I died on the day I was born    I had heaven, then I lost it.    I had God, and He had me, until the day I fell to Earth and lost all my memory. I used to see my Dad each day    I know He loved to talk to me.         I know He had a lot to say    I miss all that I had to see. I miss my place with Him. When I was born, I came a corpse    compared to what I was before.      What kind of corpse can hope to f  e  e  l  ?      What kind of corpse can know the LORD?      What kind of corpse knows the deal      or knows what we’re reaching to  w   a     r        d  ? I died on the day I was born, so why do I feel so alive? Why, wh